


Mana’s Notebook

by Harmony283



Category: D.Gray-man
Genre: And angst, Cross is actually a pretty good dad, Expect canon level violence, Gen, Magic!AU, Multi, modern!AU, nearly everyone will probably show up, other pairings as the plot demands
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-19
Updated: 2019-05-15
Packaged: 2019-11-24 15:29:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 14,898
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18166943
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Harmony283/pseuds/Harmony283
Summary: To my son and all that read this. I hope eventually this gets back to you.No matter how or through what means this is yours.Cherish it. They are my final words, my final secrets to you.Please forgive me but don't forget.But keep walking. Always keep walking.Those meant to follow you will walk with you.You will see.In which Allen finds an old notebook owned by his adoptive father Mana Walker.





	1. Rain & Cigarette Smoke

**Author's Note:**

> I told myself I would get back into writing eventually and, well, hopefully this will help. This will definitely be a multi-chapter endeavor so let’s hope I can keep a regular schedule with it. 
> 
> Thanks to a1y-puff for the original prompt (even though the end result wound up being vastly different haha)

Y'know brat this isn't exactly a habit I wanted you to pick up.” Cross muttered as he eyed a soaking wet Allen trying to slink back into the house at who-the-fuck-knows o'clock. All he knew was it was late, he had a box of empty cigarettes in his top drawer (shoved underneath the wad of old receipts that he never looked at), and now here was Allen standing there looking sheepish but also defiant. 

 

Cross Marian knew he failed at a lot of things in life--parenting being one of them. He had a list of faults he kept track of in a small leather bound notebook hidden in his bathroom drawer along with the spare toothbrushes. Maybe Mana could forgive him for some of his transgressions, but  _ this _ ? “I'll give you points for trying to be sneaky about it. But go get changed. Then come back here. We need to talk.”

 

Allen opened his mouth, probably to complain loudly, but thought better of it. Maybe he was cold, he was certainly wet enough for it. How long had he been out? It had been raining for the last three hours, why hadn't he at least hid under a damn tree? Or an overhang? His shoes squeaked against the tiled flooring of their entryway in the way they only could if they were completely  _ drenched _ . Damn. “Shoes off.” He snapped before Allen reached the carpeting, “Fuck, kid. You know better.”

 

On second thought he probably shouldn't have scolded him. At the very least even he knew he probably deserved to get those shoes thrown at his head for it. He would have done the same damn thing if he was Allen's age.

 

***

 

An odd fifteen or twenty minutes later Cross was sitting across from a much warmer looking Allen at the kitchen table. He'd thrown on a loose fluffy sweater and some navy blue sweat pants with bright pink polkadots on them that Chomesuke got him as a gift last year. Even his feet were covered with fluffy comfy looking socks that looked like they had pandas on them. Point was, he was much warmer than when he came in and he  _ definitely _ looked more like the brat he knew. 

 

Which was why they were fucking talking about this to begin with, because Allen didn't smoke, at least not until today. Cross would have noticed if he had. Though that wasn't all. “I know I only had two left.” Cross decided to start with after Allen started fidgeting across from him, “You took both. I assume you gave the other one to whoever you were with?”

 

Allen stared resolutely down at the table, but at least managed to nod his head. Well shit.

 

Cross sighed heavily, “Alright. I know you're nineteen now,” So at least he could legally buy cigarettes if necessary, “But who did you give it to?” Allen tended to hang out with an older crowd but he did have a few friends who hovered around a year or two younger than him. If he'd been coerced into bringing the extra cigarette for them to try--

 

“--No.” Cross cued back into the conversation. Allen was fidgeting even more but he was looking at him now, “It wasn't. A-Anyone younger than me.” Ah. Well, at least the kid knew him well enough to know that was his first concern, “And I know. I shouldn't have. Wasn't planning on it, but they didn't have their wallet and we were running late so I just--grabbed it.”

 

“And put the damn box back.”

 

“I was hoping you'd be too drunk to notice.” Even  _ Allen _ cringed at how bad that probably sounded, “Maybe sleep in late, run to work a-and I'd have enough time to replace them. I know where you get them and--”

 

“You could just say you're picking them up for me.” Cross pinched the bridge of his nose and groaned. For once he was glad he hadn't drunk so much. The business meeting hadn't called for it, but regardless, “Do I need to be asking how often you've done this?” It couldn't have been long, after all the place he used still checked for IDs, and he’d been in there often enough with Allen that they all knew he was underage up until his birthday, which had only been, what, 2 months ago?

 

Immediately Allen was shaking his head, “I haven't--no. Just this once.” Well at least the kid was honest, even though he still hadn't answered him.

 

“Okay. I'll give you a benefit of a doubt.” He leaned forward, propping his chin on one hand and eyeing Allen here, “But who did you give it to?” Who in his group of friends smoked? Or rather who in his group of friends smoked and would have forgotten their own? Immediately he knew Lavi sometimes smoked because he'd had one too many awkward conversations with him while waiting for his old man. But he already knew from Bookman that Lavi was out of town, or had been for the last three days. That and for all that Lavi played the idiot, he didn't forget things.

 

It couldn't be Lenalee either. Not only did she not smoke, but Komui would probably cry if she started. Yes, she was Allen's ride the majority of the time but she never even seemed curious about it. Plus Komui would probably scream and cry and ban Allen from ever seeing Lenalee again if he'd asked for a ride this late.

 

So then--

 

Oh.

 

Allen was staring at the table again as Cross hummed long and low, “Tiedoll's brat?” He asked, “Which one?” Though the answer was obvious. It baffled him how Allen and Kanda had ever even become  _ friends _ to begin with. In the beginning he knew they hadn't been. Their fights had resulted in several heated conversations, not to mention bloody noses on both their parts to the point Cross had been legitimately worried Allen was going to snap and he'd have to deal with the repercussions of hiding a dead body. Or. Okay, so the kid couldn't technically die like a normal person so he'd have to make up a convincing enough cover story along  _ with _ having to explain a series of really shitty background events that Allen really shouldn't know a damn thing about--

 

Oh. Fuck it, he was getting off track. Point was somehow over the years that? Had turned into a grudging form of friendship and now apparently that included midnight car rides and sharing smokes. Cross snorted and Allen cringed, “I'd ask but lemme guess. Repayment?” Or something like it. Allen sagged and nodded his head, “You probably found out he probably had some stashed in his glove compartment, yeah?”

 

Oddly, Allen didn't answer him that time. Not even with a nod or a scowl. Cross squinted and looked at him closer.

 

Wait.

 

He'd been soaking wet when he got home. If they'd just smoked why hadn't they stayed in the car? Or if Kanda was really just dropping him off why didn't he drop him off somewhere  _ dry _ ? Unless he refused to pick him back up and made Allen walk home--

 

Something didn't add up.

 

“Oi, kid,” Immediately Allen straightened up, “Where did you two go?” 

 

_ **FLASHBACK TIME** _

 

It went the way typical 11 o'clock phone calls went, in retrospect. Kanda wasn't quite sure why he expected it to go any differently, just that the brat was as elusive as ever saying  _ Please, I just need a drop off _ . Like it was the most natural thing to ask someone this late at night. He'd never say it, but just like every other time a late night call was made --he got worried.

 

He would have been just as worried if it was Lenalee calling, granted Komui wouldn't dare let her step foot outside past eleven unless he knew exactly where she was going and when she'd be back, and honestly Kanda highly doubted Allen wanted his guardian to know either of these things. So the fact that he was his first choice to ask? Kanda wouldn't say no. Even if, yes, okay he was a little bit mean to ask for compensation. The front might not Matter in a few hours depending on what kind of shit Allen was getting into, but  _ still _ . He would never just give him a ride out of the goodness of his heart.

 

That and it proved Cross had been gone for the night if Allen could easily sneak in like that and steal the last-- _ two? _ \--cigarettes. “I didn't know you smoked.” Kanda muttered when Allen stealthily (and unnecessarily) opened the passenger side door. He was wearing his typical black hoodie with some obscure death metal band logo on it that Kanda probably heard at some point when he let Allen choose what songs to listen to, with a jean jacket over that and black ripped jeans. He half expected boots to finish off the look--but no. He wore the same old red converse shoes he always wore, which didn't do much good in this downpour. In fact Allen was already shaking, which reminded Kanda it was still fucking February--he was shocked it wasn't snowing.

 

But. Right. Allen was talking now, or rather blabbering on something about--"I don't but he had two and he'll notice if there's one left. Do you have a lighter?”

 

Kanda rolled his eyes and revved the engine, “I do but not here. Let's get there first. I'll smoke while I wait. Where are we going anyway?” He pulled away from the curb and slowly made his way out of Allen's neighborhood. Not that he got very far after all--he needed to know which way to turn.

 

“Left.” Allen answered almost immediately, pointing a little sluggishly with his left hand while the right cradled the two cigarettes like they were made of gold. 

 

Kanda raised an eyebrow at that, “And then?”

 

“I'll give them as we get there.” Allen huffed and turned to look out the window. Well damn  _ that _ wasn't sketchy at all in the slightest.

 

“Oi, you're not Google Maps. You're going to get one turn wrong then we'll be stuck.” Kanda refused to turn left, he highly doubted anyone would honk at him this late anyway. “Just tell me what this place is called. I probably know how to get there.”

 

“How is that any better than just trusting  _ me _ ?” Allen snapped, but didn't even bother to do much more than glare at his reflection in the window. Yeah. Not sketchy  _ in the slightest _ .

 

“Then I can turn us around and drop you back off. If you can't tell me where we're going then maybe you shouldn't be going there.” Oh. Fucking.  _ Goddammit _ . He sounded like Tiedoll.

 

Even Allen was staring at him. Like, actually staring  _ at him _ , not just his reflection. Then, with very little fanfare, he swallowed and asked, “So you know the McKenzie Fairfield building?”

 

“The old condemned recreational center they shut down almost ten years ago because of that shooting--?” Oh. Kanda didn't like where this was going. “Why there? Fuck no. That place is--” He didn't want to say haunted but just three years ago they'd found a dead body in one of the offices on the third floor! Ruled an accident, but why would anyone break into a place like that only to poke around in a damn  _ office _ ? Not to mention the cause of death was never outright confirmed--

 

“If you say haunted then I'll say you're a pansy.” Allen snorted, “Besides. I'm just picking up something--by the outside pool. You can literally park your car in the back lot and  _ see me _ walk there and back. I just need to jump over a few fences.” Most of the main building had long since been boarded up, or at least City officials had tried. It was deemed structurally unsafe so demolition was repeatedly shoved back, making the place an excellent area for either god awful pranks or for some rather unsavory people to meet up.

 

Fuck. Did Kanda  _ really _ have a reason to be worried? “Shit. I should've brought Mugen.”

 

Allen rolled his eyes here, “The fact you still keep calling it that has  _ me _ worried. We're not in some anime where calling your attacks and naming your weapons is a thing.” But they'd argued about it before so Allen knew Kanda didn't give a shit about his opinion. His sword would still be named Mugen and he would still wish he'd have it even if it probably wouldn't do any good. “Like I said. I'm just grabbing something. In and out.” Allen repeated, “You can sit in your car and smoke and  _ watch  _ me.”

 

“Then you'll light one up after to calm yourself down?” Kanda asked as he grudgingly turned left, “Tch, fine. This better be quick.”

 

***

 

Unfortunately it was. Left, two rights, a long trek down a tiny back road because the main exit had long been blocked off, a U-turn, 3 more lefts, then they were there in the back of the building, where the parking lot was only just now acquiring cracks in it. There weren't any other cars here that Kanda could see, but then again usually no one drove and  _ parked _ here. Either they walked or got dropped off, which in hindsight was probably why Allen said what he did.

 

So really the fact Kanda was staying and parking in such an obvious spot could be seen as his own damned fault, but Allen was right. From here he could see the chained fence surrounding the pool from there, then the outer, taller, link fence surrounding the nearby track. Literally he really  _ did  _ just have to jump over them. 

 

“See?” Allen motioned to the fences, “I told you. Now. You said you had a lighter?”

 

Oh. Right. Kanda nodded to the glove compartment, “Yeah. Open it and pass it to me?” He could tell any minute now that Allen would notice, so he watched as he opened said compartment and shuffled around to look for--

 

The hot pink lighter. And the mostly full pack of cigarettes. 

 

Allen stared at the pack like he couldn't believe what he was seeing. Like it really was so unusual for him to ask for a cigarette when he  _ had a whole pack full.  _ Okay, yes, actually that was kind of bad. Or overly devious. Or maybe just an excuse. “What?” Kanda finally asked when Allen dumbly turned his gaze to him, “I always have extra.”

 

“So I didn't need to grab Cross's.” Allen kept staring at him, “You didn't need compensation.” He could see the gears turning and waited, just to see what Allen would come up with. And after the longest five minutes of Kanda's life--he did. “So. Wait. You would have driven me anyway?”

 

Kanda shrugged one shoulder and held his hand out for the lighter, “Is it that weird?”

 

Allen tossed the lighter at him and muttered, “Well yeah. For  _ you _ . It's not like you to be--” He faltered here for half a second, voice lowering as he almost whispered, “worried.” Like he couldn't believe that either.

 

Really. “I've been your late night ride for how long now?” Kanda asked, flicking the lighter just so he'd give his hands something to do, “Is it that surprising? Now go get whatever it is you came for. I'll light up when I see you come back.” Just in case. After all if Allen got stuck or cornered or  _ needed help _ he wanted his hands free.

 

But Allen was still staring at him dumbly like he couldn't quite process the words, and it was only the sound of the rain suddenly down pouring that he realized  _ right _ , he didn't come here to just sit in an abandoned parking lot.

 

This was either the start to a slasher film or some shitty romcom. Either way Allen was shoving his way out of the car as graceful as a two day old llama learning how to walk and getting fucking  _ drenched _ .

 

It would have been hilarious watching him bolt across the parking lot and scramble over the first fence. Except he had no trouble with that, Kanda knew Allen was at least a little athletic given how often they'd been thrown together before, or how often Allen would rough house with either Lavi or Daisya or, hell, get his butt kicked by Lenalee--Or even  _ himself _ , when Kanda decided to join in and stop being careful. 

 

He was still nervous, though. The rain seemed to be getting harder, coming down in torrential sheets not just heavy droplets and while it wasn't warm enough for thunder he could feel static in the air. Something wasn't right here, as Allen leapt over the second fence. Hell, had he even said what he came here to grab? Was it something he forgot? Did he come here  _ by himself _ before? Fuck, Kanda started tapping a finger against his thigh out of tempo with the rain just to keep himself focused.

 

Allen disappeared for half a second under a rusted unused awning meant to probably cover pool equipment and Kanda nearly shoved his way out of the car. But then Allen was back, scrambling over the first fence, then second, with nothing super noticeable or different on him. No ominous bulky bags or backpacks, no plastic baggies filled with mysterious substances--

 

Oh. Fuck it. Allen wasn't some drug addict! Yes maybe Cross knew some sketchy as fuck people at some point, but Tiedoll had always said he'd apparently shed that persona when he got Allen. Maybe Kanda was just paranoid, a fact driven home when he nearly jumped out of his skin when Allen scrambled to open the passenger side door with saturated fingertips. “ _ Fuck _ .” He breathed just as Allen cheered--

 

“Got it!”

 

“Got what?” kanda belatedly realized he hadn't even lit up yet. Not that he would have been able to with how nervous he'd been. That and--"Fuck, you're getting the seat wet!” 

 

Immediately Allen was scowling at him, “Like I knew it was supposed to rain this hard!” The rain thundered against the roof of the car almost in retaliation, “But anyway. I got it. We can go now.” His grey eyes flickered uneasily to the front before he grabbed at the lighter--and finally noticed Kanda hadn't lit up. “Oh. Uh. Here.” He flicked the lighter and they both watched the flame dance before Kanda held the cigarette out to be lit.

 

“I'm not rolling the window down in this.” He muttered as he sat back and took a puff, though that reminded him, “You said you'd light one up too. Still going to?” Or at least his hands seemed to be shaking enough for it, “One won't kill you. You'll smell like smoke anyway.”

 

Allen still seemed oddly speechless by that, or maybe he was letting himself relax after--after whatever the hell just happened. Maybe he was just cold and warming up? Kanda revved the engine and Allen nearly dropped the lighter. “Sorry!” He yelped, but at least he'd closed it.

 

“Try not to set yourself on fire.” Kanda snorted as Allen fumbled, “And if you really don't want to smoke? Don't I can hide it in my box.” Because for all he knew Allen probably threw out Cross's old box, especially if he'd been so worried about him discovering one gone. 

 

It was only when he backed out of the nonexistent parking space and drove towards the actual road that he saw Allen pick up the cigarette still sitting where he'd left it. He was thinking that much was obvious and really, Kanda wanted to reiterate he hadn't been serious but before he could? Allen was turning towards him almost resolutely, “One won't hurt. I'll put it out before I get home.”

 

Well then. Before Allen could scrounge around and find the lighter that was most likely now hiding underneath one of the many crap piles in Kanda’s car, Kanda held out the lit end of his cigarette, “This is easier.” He pressed it against the end of Allen's cigarette the muttered, “Put it in your mouth and inhale.”

 

Allen didn't cough anywhere near as loudly or as hard as Kanda had when he first picked up his smoking habit, but then again he  _ did _ grow up around the perpetually smoking Cross Marian, maybe he’d already gotten used to it?

 

_ **FLASHBACK END** _

 

“So you're telling me you went to that old building in the middle of the night just to--grab something then drove all the way back?” Cross asked, staring at Allen incredulously. Granted it wasn't as bad as he'd been assuming--he knew Kanda had a vindictive streak, or at least he did when they were younger. It wouldn't have surprised him much if they'd gotten into an argument and Kanda made Allen walk back. Still didn't make it a  _ great _ scenario by far, after all, “I don't need to tell you how stupid that was, now do I?”

 

Allen had the decency to look at least a little chastised though not by much, “We stopped by a 24-hour McDonalds.” Oh.  _ Okay _ , “I was hungry.”

 

“Brat.” Cross leaned forward again, “Kid.” Wait, no that didn't sound right either, “Allen.”  _ There we go _ . Immediately Allen stiffened up, “That building is condemned for a damn reason. If the police had seen you you'd be calling me to come pick your sorry ass up!” Not to mention Tiedoll would probably be calling him too, maybe not livid but definitely annoyed. That was never a pretty sight. “Now what was it that you needed to pick up so bad? It really couldn't wait until, I dunno, the middle of the day? Not during a torrential downpour?”

 

Allen still looked nervous, hesitant, constipated. Really, really constipated, actually, but honestly? That was the key to this entire damn story. Not that he'd let the kid off the hook if whatever it was was important enough, but maybe he could at least see his reasoning. Tiedoll had always said to listen first even if your opinion didn't change after the fact.

 

There would always be that one time that it did.

 

Finally, Allen spoke, softly, eyes downcast, “Remember that meeting you dragged me to? A--A few months ago?” Cross nodded his head. He didn't bring the kid to very many, mostly because he wasn't old enough yet to be useful but he had brought him to a few of the tamer events, “Well someone there. I think--” He took a shaky breath here like the words were fighting to come out,”-- _ thought _ \--had something of Mana's. Turns out I was right. I think.” He clasped his hands, one scarred beyond repair and one the normal pale skin of a regular teenage boy, in front of him, “I managed to find their contact information. With help.” He smiled here and Cross mentally wanted to smack a certain redhead that wasn't himself, “We agreed to...not necessarily meet up, but he said he'd leave the item in a safe place and gave me a date. It was today. Tonight. They sent me an email saying it would be there by midnight, or maybe a little after.” He shut his eyes here but he was  _ smiling _ so, so brightly, “it was there. Exactly where the email said it'd be.”

 

Well then. “What exactly is it that he had?”

 

“Mana's notebook.”

 

Wait.  _ What? _

 

_ *** _

 

Cross stared at Allen for a moment in complete and utter disbelief. the chances of him lying, at least unintentionally, were still extremely high even though Cross knew that was the last thing Allen wanted to do. A large part of him would always miss Mana, they both did. It was the pain of loss that often had people….delusional. A regular notebook might seem like it had a world of secrets in it all while being a regular unassuming notebook. 

 

But first and foremost he had to  _ see _ said notebook. “Oi, kid,” Cross slowly maneuvered around to the other side of the table to squeeze one of Allen's shoulders, “Where is it then? I can tell you if it's his.”

 

Allen wanted to complain, wanted to snap and say  _ I can tell too _ , and yet Cross was giving him this look that he could only dub as the  _ worried fatherly look _ that would have looked more at home on Tiedoll's face than Cross's. But it was there and he was bare open in a way Allen wasn't used to seeing. That alone was enough to have him slowly, shakily, reaching into his hoodie pocket where he'd stashed his small prize. It was a miracle the bonding hadn't gotten soaked, but Allen couldn't mistake the handwriting if he tried. Etched on the binding was a set of symbols he remembered seeing a few times as a child. Music symbols, maybe, or just random nonsense. Mana had been good about that. So whoever found the notebook either had to already know what it said….or simply thought it wasn't important.

 

Worse case scenario they thought it was a memoir or a diary. The letters on the binding spelled out a rather unassuming name for those who didn't know him.

 

_ W A L K E R _ .

 

Big, capital letters Allen could feel without looking. He slow pulled the notebook out and placed it on the table in front of him. The letters were in a tarnished gold, probably thanks to age, and the binding was warn, meaning whoever had it had clearly at least tried to read it. Or maybe that meant Mana had all those years ago? Before his death did he spend time scrawling in this tiny little notebook? When Allen glanced at Cross all he could see was a pale sort of dread draining color from his face.

 

Allen almost wondered if he should have kept the notebook to himself.

 

Yet when Cross reached out to place a hand on the cover he looked almost sad, or maybe a mix of emotions too. Allen knew they'd been close friends, maybe almost like brothers after all Mana wouldn't have placed him in the care of a stranger, would he? But Cross never said much other than that they'd been friends. No stories of how they met, what schools they went to--then again it was hard to picture Mana  _ or _ Cross in a stationary place like a school.

 

They were always walking. Always visiting new places. It was because of him that Cross slowed down. But still he never stopped, he was still motivated even though Allen wasn't quite sure what all he had a hand in. Just that Cross tried to keep him out of it  _ Until you get older _ .

 

Except now with this notebook supposedly in one of his coworkers posession? What did  _ that _ mean? Cross's face was carefully neutral as he flipped the notebook open and began reading the first page.

 

_ To my son and all that read this. I hope eventually this gets back to you. _

_ No matter how or through what means this is yours. _

_ Cherish it. They are my final words, my final secrets to you. _

_ Please forgive me but don't forget. _

_ But keep walking. Always keep walking.  _

_ Those meant to follow you will walk with you. _

_ You will see. _

 

Cross slowly closed the cover and stared at the unassuming red front. There was no writing on the cover, just the binding, and yes that was in fact Mana's handwriting. Cross would recognize it anywhere. “I need this.” He said after a moment, eyes not leaving the notebook even when he could feel Allen start to shake, “You need to sleep. Let me borrow this for the night. Tiedoll’s beat didn't read any of this, did he?”

 

Allen exhaled shakily next to him and shook his head, “No. I kept it in my hoodie the entire time. Why?”

 

Cross snorted and picked the notebook up, “Until we figure out what it means and who  _ else _ already had it that's for the best. Okay, kid? You can text him if you want. Thank him if you need to, but don't tell him what it is. Just in case.”

 

“Does this mean you're going out again?” Allen asked, somehow not liking the idea of being alone in this big empty house. 

 

Cross sighed, “I need to figure out who had this and since I have a  _ pretty good idea _ who helped you figure that out? I know exactly who to visit.”

 

Allen grimaced almost immediately, “Lavi isn't going to get in trouble is he? He just looked up the name for me--that's it!”

 

The way Cross looked at him, though made Allen wonder maybe that was worse than it sounded. But instead of answering him he tucked the notebook under one arm and ruffled Allen's hair with another, “I should be back by tomorrow afternoon. Get some sleep, okay kid?”

 

Then he turned on his heels and walked out of the kitchen, probably to his office, or maybe to the closet to grab his jacket. After all it was  _ still _ raining outside. Allen could hear it pattering against the kitchen windows. Tonight was going to be a long night.


	2. Questions & Non-answers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “My point is that by now you should know better than to lie. I know how long it takes you to pick Allen up and how long it takes for you two to get to McDonalds and back. I can do basic math. I know there's a span of time you went somewhere else and now you're not telling me where?”

 

**_A.W:_ ** _ So Cross found out. _

 

Allen had debated on whether or not to send that one tiny text or not. He knew it was late and that Kanda was probably either asleep or answering his own set of  **very uncomfortable** questions from Tiedoll, but at the very least he'd probably want to know Allen was going through the same damn thing--or went, considering Cross had left roughly fifteen minutes ago.

 

Part of him felt giddy, still, at the prospect of finding something of Mana's that he  _ hadn't  _ obsessively read over, but at the same time he felt guilty too. He highly doubted Cross would have reacted the way he did if the notebook had been a good thing, right? And now Lavi was going to probably get yelled at for it, even though all  _ he _ did was give Allen Tyki's contact information. 

 

Which led to a whole other set of questions that just made Allen's head hurt. He knew logically no one would probably open the door at near 4 am in the morning, much less to an irate and tipsy (though not drunk, for once) Cross. Allen knew Bookman was a colleague of Cross's and that they'd mutually borrowed things from each other for years now, with Lavi goofily acting as the messenger boy, but would Bookman  _ really _ let Cross yell at him? Allen hoped not. Besides, last he'd heard from Lavi he was out delivering something for one of Bookman's clients--so would he even be  _ home _ ?

 

Their shop wasn't even close by! Not really, so was the trip really that worth it? Would Bookman let Cross stay the night or was he going somewhere else after? If so, where? He'd said he'd be gone until afternoon so, again, was it really that serious?

 

“Great _. _ ” Allen sighed and stared down at his phone, “Another thing to worry about.” 

 

***

 

Just as Allen expected he didn't wake up until late the next morning. His clock read 10AM and the first thing he saw when he checked his phone was an equally as short reply back: 

 

**_BaKanda:_ ** _ Yeah mine wasn't happy either _ .

 

Well that answer Allen's unasked question from last night. So he groggily reached for his phone with his right hand and pulled it closer before typing out:

 

**_A.W:_ ** _ Ouch. Sry abt that.  _

 

Immediately another ping notification went through.

 

**_BaKanda:_ ** _ You're up early.  _

 

Allen groaned at that and sat up.  _ Too _ early, more like. Then again he stayed up later than usual so maybe he could forgive himself. 

 

Before he could even roll off the bed to grab his shirt another text came through:

 

**BaKanda:** _ What was it anyway? _

 

Oh. Well. Allen should have expected that. Cross had even said he could tell him as long as he didn't give any details. He tugged on the sweater from the night before and typed out:

 

**_A.W:_ ** _ Just a notebook I thought I'd lost _ .

 

Okay that wasn't really a lie, was it? Sort of? Okay, maybe it kind of was--

 

Suddenly his phone was  _ ringing-- _

 

Naturally it was Kanda's number flashing on the screen. Well then.

 

Allen pressed the green call button and immediately turned it to speakerphone, “Someone found it. Apparently I left it at Cross's office one day.” Better elaborate, or as Cross called it convince, convince,  _ convince _ before you can even be called a liar. “I was kind of writing it off as lost for good since I hadn't been there in months, y'know?”

 

There was an odd pause on the other end of the line. Then Kanda let out a loud sigh, “ _ Huh. Well then lucky you. _ ” There was no telling if he bought the story or not,  _ “Guess it wasn't anything too important?” _

 

Allen winced just a little, “Well. I was sad when it went missing. It was--I was copying down some notes. Music notes, y'know?” Okay he could feel a little bad about this later, “It probably made absolutely no sense to whoever found it unless they knew how to play the piano.”

 

_ “Most people know the basics.” _ There was a grunt, then Kanda was cursing, Allen was about to ask if he was okay when he continued,  _ “Did they leave a note or anything?”  _

 

“A note?”

 

_ “Yeah. Saying who they were or how they found it? If they had it a while they probably went through it too.” _

 

Allen grimaced again. He knew, maybe they had and that that was probably why Cross was so nervous, just like he knew he  _ also _ didn't know why it was such a bad thing that they went through Mana's notebook, other than it being an invasion of privacy--

 

_ “Oi, cat got your tongue?” _

 

“N-no!” Allen stuttered, “I just haven't looked through it yet. Fell asleep before I could.” There was another loud  _ thump _ on the other end and, okay, Allen had to ask, “Are you okay?” 

 

_ “Just practicing, why?” _

 

Well then. “I shouldn't keep you, then.” That and he knew Kanda would start wheedling him, finding more cracks in his half-assed story--Allen knew there were benefits to convincing someone just as he knew there were benefits to knowing when to  _ stop _ . “Are you going to Lena's today or is she working?” It was a Saturday but often times she helped out at her brothers lab so someone else could have the day off. “I...sort of texted her last night too.” That, at least, wasn't a lie even if it hadn't been anything important. He never replied back, so he knew she was probably worried.

 

_ “Fuck, really?”  _ Allen heard Kanda groan,  _ “Wasn't planning on it. Try just texting her. I'd rather not stop by if her brother's around.” _ A.k.a the lab. Who knew what happened in that lab on a daily basis? That was at least something they could agree on. 

 

“Yeah I'll do that.” His reply was a little stilted, but they both probably knew what the other was thinking, and with very little preamble Kanda ended the call because  _ of course _ that was just the Kanda thing to do.

 

So instead Allen opened up Lenalee's text window and reread the last few messages:

 

**_A.W:_ ** _ I'll see if I can get Kanda to do it? Will let u know if he says yes!  _ Sent at 11:02PM. He hadn't said much just that he found something he'd lost. Reading back over it, especially now that Cross explicitly told him not to say anything made him feel guilty all over again.

 

**_Lena:_ ** _ Sorry didn't see this! Yeah let me know! Where did u need to go? Text me when u get back!  _ Sent 11:45PM

 

Yeah, the guilt increased ten-fold, because again--he never had because the conversation with Cross and then he'd fallen asleep after texting Kanda and  _ only  _ Kanda. So for all he knew she was probably worried sick. 

 

So he swallowed his pride just a little bit and typed up what he hoped was a decent reply:

 

**_A.W:_ ** _ Hey sry it was late when we got back. Fell asleep. I'm okay. Have a good day at work :) _

 

Okay he knew she'd ask how he knew she was at work, but it was easy enough to figure out, and if they were both wrong? Then she'd call him. Either way he knew he had to keep his phone on him, which probably meant going back to bed wasn't an option. She'd been known to sneak in through his window before--Kanda too.

 

He had such weird friends. They really needed to learn how to pick locks. Or maybe he needed to remember to lock his windows?

 

***

 

Lenalee honestly didn't know whether to be worried or relieved when she woke up the next morning without any new texts from Allen or Kanda. Part of her knew she shouldn't have expected much, after all it  _ had _ been late, and they both probably assumed she was asleep. So really she couldn't be too upset at them even if it meant she'd spent the entire morning glancing at her phone as she got ready. She even got ready a little slower than usual, even though she knew Komui expected her to stop by and help out at the lab around 9 o'clock. 

 

Which meant she could only waste so much time before she had to tuck her phone away in her purse and head on her way. Part of her would question why Kanda didn't at least text her first, seeing as usually he was awake by now exercising, but at the same time it had only been Allen who texted her last night, and even though he gave Allen a ride in the end that didn't necessarily mean he knew what was going on.

 

Either that or he forgot his phone existed. Again.

 

That was always the problem with being friends with mostly guys. It was exasperating as it was endearing, so when Lenalee got to work she was almost glad for the distraction the paperwork provided. It was probably why she nearly jumped when her phone vibrated from its spot next to the pile of paperwork she'd been filing. 

 

A rush of relief ran through her as she saw the text on the screen:

 

**_Allen:_ ** _ Hey sry it was late when we got back. Fell asleep. I'm okay. Have a good day at work :) _

 

Followed by a larger rush of both annoyance and worry because that text? Didn't answer anything. Honestly it really made her wonder if he was  _ trying _ to worry her on purpose, or if he was just oblivious. Chances were it was the latter, it was Allen after all, but that still left her with more questions. 

 

For one, how did Allen know she was at work? Granted that was the easiest question to answer after all her brother usually needed help on Saturdays and even if she couldn't do much except sorting and filing paperwork she definitely enjoyed the task. It got Komui to actually come out of his office more, and she could at least say she was being helpful. Everyone else in the lab was sweet, too and kept her up to date on what insane project Komui was working on next.

 

Two, again where did they go? She could assume Kanda knew more and that he would easily answer her once he figured out his phone existed again. But even then she wanted to hear it from Allen  _ not _ Kanda after all it was Allen who asked for a ride in the first place. 

 

That led to the third question of what it was that Allen had even found? If it was important enough he would have just told her last night, right? Even if it  _ wasn _ 't important she knew if he was excited enough about finding it he would have told her. But he didn't. He'd just been excited enough to call Kanda out at nearly midnight to go retrieve it.

 

And now she was worried again.

 

Until she heard her phone buzz again. This time it was Kanda:

 

**_Kanda:_ ** _ Oi did the bean text you yet? _

 

Well at least now she knew Kanda had found his phone. Though the timing was oddly specific, which had even more questions flooding around in her head. Maybe she was thinking too hard about this, but at this point could anyone really blame her?

 

So she shot a text to Allen first:

 

**_Lena:_ ** _ Ok I was worried u dummy! Did u find what you were looking for? _

 

Then to Kanda:

 

**_Lena:_ ** _ Yes he did. What happened?? _

 

At the very least she would get answers out of one of them.

 

********

 

Honestly Kanda shouldn't have been so surprised when he got a text back from Lenalee almost immediately. If Allen had texted her just like he said he did then who knew what she was thinking could have happened? That alone reminded Kanda of how little he actually knew himself, other than that he had a clear suspicion that Allen was probably maybe lying. Again he was pretty sure it wasn't anything illegal, but it definitely wasn't just some random ass notebook filled with music notes and piano chords that he was pretty sure anyone who'd gone to elementary school would probably remember. 

 

Not that either of them really had a traditional schooling experience, but at least Tiedoll had tried. 

 

In other words unless it had something important or maybe embarrassing in it then Kanda  _ really _ didn't know why it couldn't have waited until morning. But that still left Lenalee's text unanswered and he knew she wasn't above text spamming him--at work or not. So Kanda quickly shifted back into a resting position before grabbing his phone and replying:

 

**_Kanda_ ** _ : What did he tell u? _

 

Maybe it was a little mean to answer a question with a question but he also didn't know if maybe he'd told her more than him. Chances were probably not, after all it was  _ Lenalee _ . She wouldn't be afraid of telling Allen how bad of an idea it was. Hell, Kanda hadn't asked just based on the assumption that it couldn't have been a bad place and now look--he found out Allen was maybe lying and landed with even more questions that in turn  _ he _ was worrying too much about.

 

He grabbed the closest water bottle he could reach (he had several in here mostly because he usually refilled them then forgot they were in here) only to realize it was half empty. Dammit he needed some water. So he groaned and pushed himself up off the studio floor and opened the door into the hall. Tiedoll's house was much bigger than it had every right to be, but at the same time having four boys plus being an artist in need of several studios did that a person. Probably. 

 

Also having four boys tended to make one a hover-er, because Kanda hadn't even made his way down the hall to the living room-kitchen-dining room before he heard Tiedoll call out:

 

“Yuu is that you? My you're up early!” There he was at the foot of the stairs with a gigantic laundry basket in his hands, sweatpants, sweatshirt and bare feet despite the fact it was, again, only February. Not that Kanda was about to point that out considering just by  _ seeing  _ him he remembered that painfully short and awkward conversation from last night.

 

So instead he only nodded his head and continued walking to the kitchen. There he opened the fridge and pulled out yet another half full bottle of water he probably shoved in there at some point, chugging down  _ its _ contents before grabbing a third, turning around and-- _ shit _ .

 

Tiedoll was now standing on the other side of the bar with a worried smile on his face, clothes forgotten. Great. “Were you working out? Good, good, I would have thought you'd sleep in--”

 

“I wasn't out that late.” Kanda muttered, though hell even he knew that was a lie. “Didn't we already talk about this?” Wait, wait,  _ no _ . He wasn't going to instigate this. He turned and tried to walk past only for Tiedoll to sigh softly and ask:

 

“If you'd like to say that counted as talking about it, then yes we did. I don't think it counts, though because nothing really came out of it.” Tiedoll was moving around the bar now, towards Kanda and oh  _ dammit _ . They were talking about it now, weren't they?

 

_ *** FLASHBACK TIME*** _

 

The minute Kanda opened the front door he knew Tiedoll was still awake. Most likely because he'd either heard Kanda jump out of his window or because he saw his car wasn't in the driveway. Honestly Kanda was surprised he was even able to get out in the first place, with how attuned Tiedoll seemed to be, but the point was clearly he was awake now and probably had been the entire time. 

 

It still always unnerved Kanda that such a calm unassuming man could have such a presence in a room before Kanda even stepped into it. Though at least he let him actually walk in, hang his jacket up and kick his shoes off first before asking any questions. 

 

“You know I'm going to have to ask you where you went, Yuu.” Tiedoll flicked on the nearby table lamp and continued to watch until Kanda shuffled into the room. Yes, shuffled because he definitely wasn't a night owl like Allen was. He would probably have to keep this brief because he could tell when his body kept trying to wake itself back up again, and that he was teetering on that edge where he was just straight up exhausted--something only sleep could fix.

 

So he went with the easiest explanation first. “Allen texted. He was hungry--We went to the 24 hour McDonalds.”

 

He could see Tiedoll raise an eyebrow at that. He definitely didn't believe him. Not that Kanda really expected him to entirely, but they both knew it wasn't unusual for Allen to text for a ride, even though it  _ was _ much later than usual. “I'd ask why this late and if you spent the entire time there but--”

 

“--Can I sleep first?” Kanda knew that sounded bad the minute he said it. Knew that for all intents and purposes Tiedoll could tell him  _ no _ and to sit back down because yes Kanda was technically an adult now, being 21 now, but he did still live under Tiedoll's roof and rely on him for things like food and a warm place to live rent-free.

 

But surprisingly? Tiedoll only sighed again and nodded his head, “Alright. But we're talking about this in the morning. Don't forget.”

 

_ ***FLASHBACK END*** _

 

But of course Kanda kind of had, mostly because the minute he'd stepped into his room and checked his phone he'd seen Allen's text message. He knew his talk with Tiedoll had been brief but that only delayed the inevitable awkwardness, whereas Allen at least got to sleep on whatever horrifying thing Cross said. 

 

Great.

 

“So you remember now?” Tiedoll asked motioning to one of the nearby chairs, “Sit, sit. We're talking about it now while we have the chance.” Which usually meant before the others were up. Mainly Daisya because Kanda knew Chaoji would probably have to leave for work soon and nothing was ever really successfully hidden from Marie. Not with how good his hearing was. 

 

“We really did go to McDonald's.” He started with before Tiedoll could ask again. “I was serious. He ate half of the damn menu somehow.” It still made Kanda ill to think about all that damn grease he'd shoved into his mouth.

 

He must have been making a face because Tiedoll started chuckling at that, “Oh I believe it, but Yuu even then you wouldn't have left so early or gotten back so late even  _ if  _ he ate all that. And yes I know when you left. I was dozing but not fully asleep.” He paused here then helpfully tacked on, “And when I checked I saw your car missing. So no I didn't think it was Daisya or Chaoji getting home.”

 

Again Kanda scowled but fuck it if he hadn't assumed that himself so, “Your point?”

 

“My  _ point _ .” Kanda could  _ feel _ when that look changed. A literal shiver ran down his back, “Is that by now you should know better than to lie. I know how long it takes you to pick Allen up and how long it takes for you two to get to McDonalds and back. I can do basic math. I know there's a span of time you went somewhere else and now you're not telling me where? I won't even point out that you smelled like cigarette smoke from a brand I know you don't smoke.” 

 

Oh.  _ Oh _ . Kanda could feel himself cringe all the way down to his toes. Not just because Tiedoll had a point, but because he probably knew the brand based off smell alone. Kanda wasn't stupid, he'd been friends with Allen long enough that of course Tiedoll had spent enough time around Cross! And if he recognized the brand--

 

“Now. Is there anything you want to tell me?” Tiedoll leaned forward in that way that made him both look unassuming but also like he could legitimately threaten the answers he wanted right out of you. This situation was now leaning towards the latter.

 

Well. Shit. Hopefully Allen would understand Kanda telling him  _ some _ , even though he wasn't even sure himself of some of the details, “Allen asked for a ride.” He started off simply, sitting down hard in the chair next to Tiedoll. Maybe if he made this quick he wouldn't be mad? Or would maybe realize he was blowing it out of proportion a little bit. “It was after eleven so Lena couldn't do it.” At least he didn't have to explain that part, Tiedoll knew Komui just as well as the rest of them did. “I thought it'd be quick so I said fine. He really did just need to pick something up. It was raining,” Of course they both knew this too, “So that took longer too. Traffic wasn't that bad, he got what he left, and then got hungry so I agreed to pick up McDonalds. Didn't think he'd eat half the menu soaking wet but he did. Then I dropped him back off at home and drove back. The end--”

 

Except now Tiedoll was holding his hand up because of course he could probably tell Kanda just wanted to get this over with, but  _ details _ . He wanted details. So he asked the obvious question first, “What did Allen need so badly that he couldn't wait until morning to get it?” And then, because neither of them had said it yet but they both already knew-- “And that also doesn't explain why you smelled like one of Cross's cigarettes. Did you stop in for a visit?” And even then they both knew it wouldn't have been so strong unless Kanda had gone into his bedroom or smoked one himself.

 

At least that was easy to explain, “I asked for compensation. I wasn't just going to go out in a monsoon and drive him somewhere without asking for something in return.” Wait. That sounded bad,  _ shit _ . He plowed on quickly, “Especially when he didn't even want to tell me where we were going or why.” 

 

He saw Tiedoll's incredulous face warp into something close to worry, “So you went out at near midnight and drove him to somewhere for some reason and not only that you asked him to steal some of Cross's cigarettes--?” Okay that did sound really, really bad actually. 

 

Dammit now Kanda couldn't really blame Tiedoll for being so worried. Unthinkingly, or maybe just to give his hands something to do, Kanda started unscrewing the bottle cap on the bottle of water he'd grabbed, but he never took a sip out of it. It just felt nice and cold on his hands and helped him  _ not look at Tiedoll _ as he tried to think about what he'd say, because again he didn't know. He didn't know why, even though yes he knew  _ where _ they went--so maybe he could work with that? “I'm actually trying to ask him why it was so important. He finally answered me maybe thirty minutes ago.” Which. Shit. He needed to check and see if Lenalee replied too. Dammit, he should have just brought his phone with him. “He said it was a notebook he'd left at Cross's office months ago.” He could  _ see _ Tiedoll stiffen up here, “Apparently he forgot about it and one of Cross's coworkers found it. Not sure how long they kept it,” Not that that wasn't kind of strange in it's own right, “but I guess they finally told Allen and somehow they arranged to either meet up or to leave the notebook somewhere.” Which...wait. That also didn't quite add up. Why had they left it in such a sketchy ass place if it was just a random notebook? Why couldn't they have given it to Cross to bring home? Now Kanda was even more confused, but right. He had to finish, at least, so he could  _ leave _ . “No I still don't know why we went and picked it up at midnight unless you want me to guess.”

 

When he actually turned to look at Tiedoll though he could see how pale he was. That alone had Kanda feeling--not quite squeamish but also like he really didn't want to know what Tiedoll must be thinking. All he knew was he was now shaking his head and murmuring, “No, no, I mean if he tells you I'd like to know but….I supposed I'm just glad you're home.”

 

Why did that kind of sound like Tiedoll thought he wouldn't be? Who did Tiedoll think they'd meet  _ up _ with? He knew again that Cross worked with some strange ass people, given some of the stories Allen told sometimes, but surely they weren't  _ that _ dangerous….right?

 

Then again given the location he left that notebook they at least didn't think like a normal person logically would, so what did Kanda know? 

 

Suddenly Tiedoll clapped one hand hard on his shoulder, jarring him out of that particular thought, before loudly saying, “Alright. Thank you for telling me this much, Yuu. Sorry for disrupting your morning workout. I'll let you get back to that though I will say please at least drink all your waters first before grabbing a new bottle. Or at least don't leave them littered around the studio! Other people use it too, you know?”

 

Then he walked over to the laundry basket he neglected and hefted it up before disappearing up the stairs and leaving Kanda to stare after him. He didn't even get a chance to try and defend himself, then again--fuck it. Tiedoll had a point and it wasn't like he didn't know who did it, after all Daisya and Chaoji  both liked sports drinks better than just bottled water.

 

So Kanda sighed, grabbed the water he'd gotten from the fridge, and slowly walked back to the studio. Where he'd left his phone. He grimaced a little but pulled up his most recent messages. Shockingly he had five unread text messages from her, and two from Allen. Huh.

 

The first one was almost immediate after his reply:

 

**_Lena:_ ** _ He hasn't told me anything since asking for a ride _

 

The next two came ten minutes after and had Kanda stalling and staring. 

 

**_Lena:_ ** _ He said he's fine though? _

 

**_Lena:_ ** _ Why wouldn't he be fine? _

 

Because hadn't he just been thinking that? Or something close enough to it? Why wouldn't Allen be fine? Why did it feel like they'd been in more danger after the fact than during? What wasn't Allen saying? 

 

Finally, the last one was from only two minutes ago. 

 

**_Lena:_ ** _ If u can't tell me just say so. _

 

Well. Fuck. Then again since he didn't reply immediately it definitely did look like he was ignoring her. So he took a deep breath and quickly texted back:

 

**_Kanda_ ** **:** _ Sorry Tiedoll. _

 

**_Kanda:_ ** _  I asked him too he didn't rly answer. _

 

There. Because now Kanda was starting to realize Allen had definitely lied. Maybe not about all of it, considering he really had grabbed something that night in the pouring rain that someone had left. But who it was and what it was? Clearly he wasn't telling the whole truth. It made Kanda wonder  _ why _ he didn't want to tell them, but he knew this was probably the perfect example for why--Lenalee was nosy only when she was worried and Kanda only when he knew the other person was lying. 

 

In this scenario Allen fit both scenarios. 

 

Speaking of which, Kanda clicked on the two unread texts from Allen.

 

**_Beansprout:_ ** _ What did u tell Lena _

 

**_Beansprout:_ ** _ She wants to meet after work. U free? _

 

Well at least that was one way to resolve everything, maybe not perfectly but Kanda could always tell if someone was lying a lot easier when they were face to face. So Kanda quickly typed out:

 

**_Kanda:_ ** _ Yeah I should be. Where? _

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just barely got this out when I wanted to! Am trying to update very month or two just to see if I can, but obviously that depends on a lot of different factors. I will say I’m going to definitely be focusing on several of the main characters (as well as their guardians) so hopefully I’m doing a good job so far?
> 
> As always drop me a comment they’re definitely what motivates me to keep writing 💚


	3. Somewhere One Shouldn't Be

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And who did Lavi see sitting there at their living room table? A certain Cross Marian who looked about ready to throw the entire kettle (with tea probably still in it) at Bookman's head.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And now entering Bookman, Lavi, and more plot...

*** _ Saturday, 4:30am Somewhere One Shouldn't Be _ ***

 

“You know logically I shouldn't even let you in, yes?” Cross always wondered how such a tiny, frail-looking man could be so intimidating. If that was even the word to use now. All he knew was that the torrential downpour had somehow followed him all the way here and even though he'd worn a thick lined  _ hooded _ jacket he was still nearly drenched and shaking. Standing here on the porch of the Shop slash B&B, slash whatever else Bookman decided to call it at the time. 

 

With Bookman standing right there on the porch even before he'd pulled up. So clearly he knew he'd been coming. 

 

“I'd say something about letting me in just based off the fact you already knew I was coming but,” He made a sweeping motion with one arm, “ Clearly even you have your damn standards. Don't tell me I drove all the way out here for nothing.” Maybe it was silly to play along when Cross had nearly thirty minutes to think about what he was going to say to begin with. He knew he was going to get his way one way or another just like he knew he was in Bookman's territory now. Rules didn't quite apply the same way here, and yes that even applied to him, the renowned rule breaker. 

 

“That also depends.” Cross scowled when Bookman chuckled at him, “You  _ are _ the one who showed up on my doorstep at nearly five in the morning--were you drinking? I smell alcohol.”

 

Cross shrugged one shoulder, “If I was it's passed now. Damn fuck cold enough,” Not to mention wet enough, “To make anyone sober. Will you at least let me stand in the damn foyer?” He'd ask for the porch but seeing as he was already standing on it, it would be an unnecessary request.

 

Bookman raised that one eyebrow even higher and asked, “If whatever it is is so important you can say it on the porch.” He flicked one wrist out and immediately Cross felt a rush of heat and  _ energy _ , a  _ spark _ that to the untrained eye looked like static in the air. It ran along just underneath the wood and suddenly it didn't feel quite so cold anymore. But it wasn't just that. “If you're worried about it being unsafe then hopefully this will put you at ease. Now no one can accidentally overhear and you're hopefully warmer.” Then he straightened up and again he wasn't just some colicky old man pissed at being woken at the asscrack of dawn. The old man in front of him was, after all, part of the Bookman clan, one of the most powerful groups alive today.

 

So Cross sighed and shuffled in one of his pockets to pull out the small unassuming notebook he'd only just found out existed-- _ was found and not burned to death with the body _ \--and held it up, “Do you know what this is?” 

 

Bookman stared at him, face as impassive as ever to the average onlooker.

 

But Cross knew better. Extended years of acquaintance,  both warranted and unwarranted had him overly familiar with how many lines Bookman had naturally on his face. Very few were from humor, most were from old age, stress, and then there were the rare few that appeared at times like these--worry lines, which only appeared when the stress became something to actively be concerned about.  _ Like now.  _

 

Cross didn't have to say much more, really. Bookman already knew, so instead he motioned to the door Bookman was currently blocking, “Can I come in now?”

 

*** _ Meanwhile, Lavi, Some place, several hours prior* _ **

 

It was thanks to several bad decisions that Lavi wound up where he was now. It was the dead of night, several hours removed from when he should have comfortably been back at the motel sleeping. The only plus of the situation was probably that he hadn't been found yet, which was only a small mercy in the greater scheme of things considering how many bad decisions led to this.

 

It was a simple enough item retrieval mission. He'd been on several before this and he would definitely be sent on even more after this too, but that didn't matter at this point. What mattered was that he'd somehow botched this one up. Getting to the item was easy enough, a few twists and turns and one old, mostly abandoned, tunnel and he was there at the final meeting place as per requested. Where he'd messed up was because he'd only expected one visitor, not three, and definitely not the fact that one of the three hadn't wanted to give up the item to begin with.

 

It didn't matter that Lavi said it would be safer--that the one sending him was _The_ _Bookman_ , or that he'd been trained by him. Apparently the placating words were his second mistake. Those steady words had only fueled whatever hate filled fire the other had had and that was what led to the third mistake.

 

Death was inevitable to most people. Some were at a higher risk than others, either by fate or through other more nefarious means. Others it was by accidents, either caused by bad decisions of others, or from themselves. Everyone was at risk. Lavi knew several on the High Risk list, and several on the Low Risk too. The scale sometimes tipped, but not often and there were those that caused it to tip in one way or another.

 

Lavi hated being one of those people, but he was. The Decision Makers. Bookman had called him that in the kind of dead monotone one left for funerals of unsavory people. It had hurt at the time, but Lavi knew he was necessary and that it was very, very rare for Bookman to show any amount of affection to anyone. His job was different, if only slightly, and any interaction with Decision Makers tended to influence that--so really all Lavi could do was blame himself.

 

Which led to the fourth bad decision. Because blaming himself was probably what made the other two die. Really, they were smears in the old pavement before he could even blink. He'd been warned of this inevitability, or at least that thoughts could become actions even though Lavi wasn't even the one performing said actions.

 

Point was because he thought the mission was going to shit, despite all the pep talks beforehand and the carefully blank mindset he worked himself up to (as always before a delivery), it went to shit.

 

Shit, shit,  _ shit _ .

 

So now he was hiding thankfully out of sight from the now manic lunatic, with the item safely in his clutches still. God, Bookman was going to yell at him again, maybe not necessarily for this, but definitely because he was going to waste precious time cleansing the item from all the bad juju it had just received.

 

_ Don't think don't think don't think _ . He chanted to himself silently. He wasn't a fighter, not in this sense. Yes he could throw punches when necessary but that tipped the balance and “ _ Only when necessary! _ ” That voice in his head sounded suspiciously like Bookman's. 

 

Maybe this was one of those necessary times? After all, he couldn't just leave the manic asshole for someone else to deal with, right? They'd probably end up just like those other two because  _ who _ in the high heck just  _ knew _ or  _ got away with _ teaching someone that kind of shit?! 

 

Really, at this point Bookman would probably be pissed that he just ran.

 

Well. Dammit.

 

“Guess I've made my mind up then.” Lavi quickly chanted out a protection spell over the item, to make it invisible to everyone but him, before standing and quickly overriding the mild protection spell he'd cast on himself. He was better at blending spells, to make himself unnoticeable or just unnecessary for others to remember. It was what made him so good at errand running, especially when stealth was required. He was a loud person, with easy to recognize features--after all how many people fit his description of bright red hair, green eye, and an eyepatch?--which meant he was potentially the worst candidate, other than the next top model, to send on errands like this.

 

But if he made himself unimportant with a little flick of his wrist mixed with weird Latin monologuing, that fit the bill, didn't it?

 

Of course on second thought maybe he just should have attacked without making himself visible. Add the creepiness factor. But something felt wrong about attacking someone blind. Not that the crazy guy could compute the semantics but at least Lavi had something to help explain his sorry ass to Bookman when he not only came home  _ early _ but with his ass thoroughly whipped.

 

**** _ Back with Cross & Bookman _ ****

 

“You know he isn't here for you to shout at, yes?” Bookman asked as he set some sort of herbal smelling tea to boil. They were now sitting in one of three sitting rooms, the one for private house guests, not inn-visitors or shop-goers. Cross recognized the difference in the woodwork and the minimalism. 

 

He'd seen and been in the two other rooms before. The visitors had tables with cushions to relax on, as well as traditionally styled decorations lining the walls to create a quaint rustic feel. It was meant to make them feel at home, and Cross didn't doubt most of the decorations were authentic if not outright antiques.

 

Shop-goers had stiff backed, but still comfortable chairs meant for negotiating with a large, spelled, oak table meant for paperwork, item exchanges, as well as to put as much people in one space as possible. Even the bookshelves upon bookshelves seemed spelled to always fit whatever Bookman needed at the time--He was always prepared.

 

Meanwhile, this room? Begged for you to spend as little time as possible in it. The only cushions were stiff thin ones that Cross dragged from underneath the well worn low lying table. Nearby was a couch that was as rigid as the floor beneath his feet, but one he could remember sleeping on more times than he could count. Finally, in the center of the table was the teapot Bookman was currently using, plain and dull but also clearly well used just like the rest of the room. It, as well as the matching blue tea cups, was meant to act as the focal point, despite not being very impressive, but Cross could see the magic embedded in the ceramic. 

 

Cross would always be impressed by how one room could encompass one person's personality so much. But this wasn't the time for a trip down memory lane, and fuck it, he wasn't a poet. That was Tiedoll's forte, or maybe even Mana's.

 

Which was why they were here to begin with. 

 

“I know he's not here.” Cross finally answered with a scowl, “It's why I'm talking to  _ you _ instead. You may not claim any ownership over him, other than the fact that he's your fucking apprentice, but as far as I'm concerned that's damn well good enough. Your  _ apprentice _ clearly used information he shouldn't have to get this,” He held up the book, “Into my brats hands. Do you know what this means?”

 

Bookman's eyebrow twitched as he slid one of the mugs over to Cross's side of the table, “I assumed it would become his eventually, after all that man did leave it to him, didn't he?” 

 

Cross wanted to throw his tea at him, but he knew he'd miss. Not because of some fancy magic or special skill Bookman knew-- but because this house knew who built it. This table knew who cared for it. This floor knew who walked on it. In this house Bookman was as good as immortal, even death would have to knock. So a cup of hot tea, even justly thrown? Wouldn't do a damn ass thing.

 

So instead Cross sighed and, with a sudden new respect for the table in front of him (fuck what was his life?) he set the notebook down and murmured, “He has a name.” He wasn't just some man, even if he was that too. “And yes, technically this would belong to Allen. I just never--” He hesitated here, flipping open the first page to read the words there, clearly addressed to Allen. “I never thought he'd get this. Have this. I thought it was destroyed with him.”

 

“Well clearly it wasn't.” Bookman held out his hand motioning for the notebook just as Cross felt dread washing over him, “Did you really expect it to be? After all it  _ is _ Innocence. Fire burns paper, yes, but not this even when it chooses to take that form. Now,” He beckoned with his hand again, “May I?”

 

****

 

_ To my son and all that read this. I hope eventually this gets back to you. _ _   
_ _   
_ _ No matter how or through what means this is yours. _ _   
_ _   
_ _ Cherish it. They are my final words, my final secrets to you. _ _   
_ _   
_ _ Please forgive me but don't forget. _ _   
_ _   
_ _ But keep walking. Always keep walking. _ _   
_ _   
_ _ Those meant to follow you will walk with you. _ _   
_ _   
_ __ You will see.   
  


***

 

*** _ Lavi, somewhere closer to home, not as many hours removed _ ***

 

Lavi felt vaguely nauseous. He knew he was getting strange looks, ones he couldn't really blame others for. After all he probably looked like a hot mess and not the  _ good _ kind of hot mess. That thought alone would have had him giggling but right now his ribs hurt too much. Honestly his  _ everything _ hurt too much. His ribs from where he let that--that  _ thing _ get too many punches in, his legs from walking not to the motel room but to the nearest bus stop because he really didn't want to do anything more populated than this. Bus goers tended to mind their own fucking business so really it was the best option, even if he knew they would probably be mad too at the blood on the seats. 

 

These were nice seats too. Not that he could think much more than that because his head hurt too and his eye and did he mention he was probably bleeding somewhere? He wasn't sure why he let that guy hit him so much, or  _ how _ he hit so much, just that he did and now he was a big ball of  _ pain _ . But at least it had been a success. The thing was dead and the item obtained and promptly on it's way back to the shop via a beaten up pulp of himself. If he hadn't used up most of his energy to cast a retrieval spell--to grab his thankfully already packed bags and other necessary travel items he'd left in his motel room-- he probably could have used it now, to maybe blend in with the seats a little, but the damage was already done. Because again the staring.

 

Lots of staring, but nobody moved so he was good, right?

 

Right. Okay. Maybe.

 

He let out a shaky exhale and hugged his bag a little closer to himself. That made his ribs hurt a little more but the  _ hugging _ at least helped, and maybe also helped him start to nod off. Maybe that was legitimately dangerous, but he'd memorized the route map in his first five minutes so he had a solid fifteen, maybe twenty, minutes he could spare before they got to his stop.

 

Maybe that was just his luck too? At times like this he really didn't know anymore what was considered tipping the scales too much, because he was too damn tired to tell and if he surprised Bookman by showing up early? Then so be it. He was only supposed to be gone three days at most. Ideally two and a half. One of travel and getting to know the client, one full day of negotiating, and one day to travel back then relax and go over the details with Bookman. 

 

Seeing how he failed at the negotiating, well hey at least he'd be home faster?

 

**** _ Cross & Bookman again _ ***

 

“Did Allen give you any names?” Bookman asked as he flipped casually through the notebook like he would any other set of documents: with a detached interest. It made Cross feel like punching him again, considering the tea had been surprisingly good and was now practically gone so scaldingly hot liquid was no longer an option.

 

But for all he knew the floor would sprout vines to shoot out and grab him before he could, so he really wasn't going to risk it. “If you mean who had the notebook? No I don't. It's why I'm here, in case you forgot. Because of your brat--”

 

“--Apprentice--”

 

“-- _ Brat _ \--” They leveled a look at each other, “that he got that information passed along to begin with. I'm not sure if he gave his name to my kid, but he probably did. Allen probably just thought it didn't matter.” Fuck, or rather maybe Cross should have fucking asked that to begin with! Why hadn't he?

 

Oh right. Because he'd been worried about Allen sneaking out in the first place, and other God forbid  _ fatherly _ things that Bookman wouldn't understand even if he tried to explain. 

 

Bookman nodded his head for him to continue, and right. That was one thing Bookman at least couldn't do at will--reading minds. Or at least he never cared for it. So at least Cross was spared from whatever mockery he would have gotten for such an easy oversight. “Anyway, Lavi would know who it was. You clearly have him accompanying you more now.” When he wasn't off playing errand boy like right now, “And he acts friendly enough--if whoever it was had the book even looked at the damn name and even  _ met _ Allen,” Which was equally as possible because Allen knew Lavi did odd jobs for Bookman and he knew they'd all shared a meeting room before, “They would at least guess it was his. What I'm worried about, and what your brat can probably answer, is who it was that asked and if they know who Mana is.” He took a deep, steadying breath here before adding on, “I don't think I have to explain why this is bad, do I?”

 

Bookman looked as undisturbed as ever, but there was something in the way he was gripping his teacup a little tighter that had Cross knowing--he knew how serious this was, or at least how serious it  _ could _ be, “No. You don't. I have a fairly good idea.” He took a sip of his tea, “Doesn't mean I'll let you yell at Lavi. You do remember what I'm training him for, yes?”

 

Cross scowled at that, “And I know he fucking used some of your resources-- _ my resources _ to get something back to Allen that I never wanted him to have.” He could feel the air around him vibrating and he knew without a doubt that if he didn't calm down something bad would happen.

 

But could anyone fucking blame him? It was still too early, too  _ soon _ to get Allen involved in this. In what secrets that notebook shared. Even Mana probably wouldn't have wanted it like  _ this _ . Allen didn't even understand what that letter meant, at the very least Mana would have wanted that first. Cross would have to explain now, and  _ fuck _ . The kid wasn't ready.  _ He _ wasn't ready, “So yes.” He at least kept his voice steady now, softer, “I do think I have every right to be upset no matter what you're training your brat for.”

  
  


**** _ Lavi, @Bookman's shop, Saturday _ ****

 

To be fair Lavi wasn't even sure how he got here as fast as he did. The bus ride was as long and tedious as it sounded, and he nearly puked in the backseat of the cab he'd hitched a ride in, but at least the driver seemed used to it. It was probably because he chose roughly the sketchiest place to get off at, so they probably saw a lot of weird ass things in the dead of night. Point was he probably should have gotten here later than he did, and maybe even more in shambles than he already  _ was  _ (though yes, he could confirm he was actually bleeding now) but he was here  _ now _ because maybe tipping the scales just led to it. 

 

He was too tired for this shit and the universe knew it. Just like he knew Bookman had a visitor and not a very happy one.

 

But in the private meeting area? That was only reserved for the individuals who  _ knew _ just how little Bookman gave a shit about people and still wanted to converse with him anyway? That couldn't be good. So he found himself stumbling and wheezing his way to that particular room, and maybe scrambling a bit more for a handhold on the door as his vision temporarily blacked out--

 

And who did he see sitting there at their living room table?

 

A certain Cross Marian who looked about ready to throw the entire kettle (with tea probably still in it) at Bookman's head. “W-Wha--?” He tried to form the words in his mouth but they were garbled and probably not English. The room was spinning and it was kind of hard to breathe, something Lavi wasn't sure was caused by the tension or just the fact that he was so lightheaded. 

 

He was vaguely aware of one of them moving, probably Cross because he felt  _ red _ and Bookman always felt sort of  _ brown  _ and old like worn paper or a leather bound notebook--besides he knew Cross could probably lift him easier even if it was just to put him on that stiff as all get out couch. He was also vaguely aware of someone talking at him, probably Cross too--"Oi what the fuck happened to him?” His voice sounded far away, or maybe he just turned to talk to Bookman instead? Did it really matter? At least the air didn't feel like it was vibrating anymore. He wheezed and made to grab for one of the pillows, but someone stopped him.

 

This time he felt brown, then warm and tingly, then pretty much stiff and solid and unmoving, “You're hurt.” He saw Bookman's hand come into view, hovering over his forehead, “What happened?” Lavi knew Bookman didn't want a recap of the entire mission. He also knew an immobilization spell when he felt one, though that was probably just so he didn't injure himself further. He could hear Cross shuffling around in the background, because contrary to popular belief he  _ wasn't  _ much of an asshole, at least not when someone was hurt--and clearly he fit that bill to a T. 

 

Whatever discussion he'd interrupted was left simmering on the back burner because Lavi was just that good at making impressions on people. It was almost kind of funny even though deranged laughing was definitely not called for. He was just glad he could still talk, “Turns out there were three, not one.” Bookman would know what he was talking about, “Yeah. One wasn't happy. It escalated.”

 

“By how much?” There was clattering in the background and Lavi could  _ smell _ the familiar scent of balm tea, Bookman's favorite pain relieving tea at least until he could get dragged-carried to the infirmary room. “Did you have to fight?”

 

This time Lavi  _ did _ laugh, “Well, shit, yeah.” And just like that he was wheezing again. Right. Laughing was awful when everything hurt and the adrenaline wore off, “He didn't make it, but I--and the item--did. Sorry for the bad juju but checks n’balances, y'know?” He wheezed again just as Bookman gave him the most familiar exasperated, but at the same time maybe kind of fond, look. 

 

“See? Brat.” Lavi heard Cross mutter from somewhere behind them. In an instant Bookman's expression went flat again, but Lavi had seen it--and he knew he hadn't been making it up even if he was hedging on the really bad side of delirious. 

 

“Focus on the tea.” Bookman said by means of reply before turning back to Lavi, “And you--stop talking. You most likely bruised a rib. Maybe even broke one.” Lavi wanted to point out that it was only because of him that he was even talking, “Tea's almost ready, you will drink it then sleep some of this off. Where did you leave the package?”

 

Lavi gave Bookman a look. Cross snorted behind him. 

 

The look of realization hit a few seconds later, “Ah, yes” Bookman shifted to look at the door, “I'm sure I'll find it. You wouldn't have made it to the shop then here.” That much was obvious, “Fine then. Once you sleep I'll look for it.” 

 

“Or you could look for it now. It'd take you two seconds.” There was something suspicious about the way Cross said that, and honestly if Lavi hadn't been so tired he would have been  _ worried _ . As it was, he wasn't even sure he could drink the damn tea. Maybe smelling it would do the same thing?

 

Even stranger was how Bookman whipped his head around and nearly glared, as much as a stoic person  _ could _ glare, at him, “No.” Then, even weirder,  “He wouldn't be able to answer you anyway. I'll find it when he sleeps and  _ you _ will help me.”

 

Lavi was suddenly very glad he missed whatever conversation had happened before he got here. Maybe the scales had actually tipped in his favor for once?

 

****

 

“Is he finally asleep?” Cross asked a good thirty minutes later. He had to say he was impressed that the kid had held out for so long, what with how much pain he was very clearly in. Even when he'd helped move him to his room (one of the very few rooms in this place that had a constant occupant) he'd looked two seconds away from waking up. Cross knew Lavi had a higher tolerance for certain medicines, but it was good to know that this particular cocktail had actually worked this time.

 

It also helped set something at ease when even Bookman glanced back over his shoulder like he wanted nothing more to hover like a worried parent would. He would have laughed, but now was definitely not the time for it. 

 

“I think he'll sleep for a few odd hours at least.” Even his voice sounded less composed than normal as he sat back down at the table, across from Cross. “So if you still wish to yell at him you'll have to wait a few odd hours.”

 

Cross's eye flicked from the door to Bookman's face as the composed mask went back up. Well, he could still ask, “How long do you think he'll sleep for?” 

 

Bookman's fingers twitched, “You'd wait that long?”

 

Cross shrugged one shoulder, “If it makes you realize how serious this is, then yes.” Even with the mask he could count several new lines--all worry. Again it would have been sweet, but Cross wasn't about to point that out  _ now _ . He was trying to get his point across.

 

“I admire your tenacity.” Bookman sounded old and tired, “I'm hosting an event for our Inn guests in a few hours when they come for breakfast. Would you like to help host and pass the time?”

 

Cross made a face. He really should have expected that. But it wasn't like he could say  _ no. _ Shit. “Does it involve alcohol?” 

 

Bookman snorted, “No. But it  _ does _ involve tea, something else I know you're good at making.” Somehow he still sounded condescending even though it was meant to be a compliment. Though really what was Cross expecting at this point? 

 

So instead he sighed and muttered, “Fine. Let me just text the brat.” Because even if the event was supposed to be in the morning the  _ talks _ could easily stretch into the afternoon. He'd be late again, and while Allen was probably used to that at this point--He'd still appreciate the warning if Cross could give him one.

 

So he pulled out his phone as Bookman picked up the tea pot still filled with balm tea and brought it over to the counter. In the background he heard the scraping of a small stool as Bookman dragged it across the floor to reach the cabinets. Cross could at least say he was glad Bookman wasn't about waste the tea he made. He could even picture the thermos he would put it in--one of Lavi's favorite, bright yellow with a llama on it saying  _ No Drama  _ in cursive. He'd left it at his house enough times when he hung out with Allen and half the time Cross knew it didn't have coffee in it. 

 

But right. Not the point now. 

 

He pulled up Allen's text window and texted out:

 

**_Cross:_ ** _ Oi kid change of plans. Might be home after dinner now. _

 

It was better to at least say he might be home for dinner than to say he was spending the night, right? Technically yes he was here at night (or very early morning) but no sleeping happened so ‘staying the night' didn't even apply anyway. 

 

He didn't have to wait long for a reply, which both made him feel guilty because that meant the kid had either been  _ waiting, _ or even worse he'd woken him  _ up.  _ After all it was almost six in the morning.

 

**_Kid #1:_ ** _ is everything okay? _

 

Cross grimaced. Well. He wasn't about to tell Allen what state Lavi came stumbling in at. Yes he still wanted answers but it wouldn't benefit him if Lavi wasn't even coherent enough to  _ answer  _ them. 

 

**_Cross:_ ** _ Yeah. Brat not home yet. Helping Bookman with smthn. _

 

That at least was only a partial lie. Bookman would probably lie anyway, if Allen or anyone else tried to see Lavi. 

 

**_Kid #1:_ ** _ Told u. Ok. I'm going to Lena's for dinner might still be there after. _

 

Which at least meant Cross unintentionally had more wiggle room. Excellent. 

 

**_Cross:_ ** _ Just let me know if u sleep over again.  _

 

He couldn't technically tell Allen no but at the same time he would like to know if he had extra time to think over the mess of an explanation that he was probably going to have to give. It occurred to him that he might not be able to even  _ speak _ to Lavi today, if he was well and truly out, which meant he would have to go back without the information he really wanted. So maybe he should be thinking about how to explain it all  _ now _ instead of waiting until he got home?

 

Dammit. At least he still had the notebook even if he'd promised to give it back.

 

Another ping notification came through and Cross honestly wondered if Allen was half asleep, because--

 

**_Kid #1:_ ** _ Will do. Love u. Stay safe. _

 

A darker part of him knew there might be a day where he doesn't come home specifically  _ because _ it wouldn't be safe to. It was the nature of his job, even if he didn't do it  _ as much _ now since taking the kid on. The warmer, brighter,  _ positive _ side of him said he'd come back specifically for that reason. 

 

“You know you're smiling, yes?” Cross jerked as Bookman sat back down at the table and--fuck how could that man be so  _ quiet _ sometimes?! Cross hadn't even noticed--and was he laughing at him? “It's good to see you care so much for someone, at least. Now let's go to the main kitchen. The cooks should be here soon. Then after they go out for the day we can come back here.” He placed a hand over the notebook they'd both ignored in favor of tending to Lavi, “I've decided. We'll negotiate.”

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


  
  


  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun fact: This was actually finished about 3 days after I uploaded the last chapter. I did that to (hopefully) get ahead. Did I? Nope. 
> 
> As always comments are appreciated!

**Author's Note:**

> As always comments are what keep me motivated to continue so definitely let me know what you think!


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